From the Journals of Warden Jamison LeFey

by TheWarden Sat Feb 27, 2010 1:06 am

“You’re not nearly as bright as you’d like people to think you are…” Words, where cocky, brash and filled with youthful vigor. And the man behind those words was all of those things as well, starring down a young lady, or someone who seemed to be a young lady. Dressed to the gills in the finest French styles of the day, she most certainly did not at all look phased by the younger man’s accusations.

“Dear boy, I’ve crushed greater men then you for far less severe statements. I’ve tasted Excalibur’s steel and walked from the battle of my own volition. Do you really think that you can succeed where they have failed?” The façade that was put forth faltered a bit from the dragon’s excitement. The skin over the entire body rippled against the fashions she was wearing splitting a few of the seams in the process.

“A man as smart as I am never thinks he can succeed… A man as smart as I am builds a situation so that he knows he can succeed. You’ve violated the peace treaty set forth between the White Council and the Ordo Drakul. Aeonus. By my power, and the laws of magic. You will not leave on your own volition. “A Young Jamison had set this trap here, in this specific place, after watching the dragon during its daily routine. This place here was the easiest to set a trap for really anything, and the problem with extraordinarily powerful beings like dragons was that they never ever suspected that anyone could set a trap for them. The problem with most wizards is that they don’t believe that any trap set for a dragon could suffice to hold it. This is where Jamison disagrees. Confidence was key, was an area charged with emotion. This makes this place, the best one for a trap. A Street lined on either side with Brothels was plenty charged with latent emotion that was untapped fuel for a magic. The street itself, the loose cobblestones could be lifted and thrown, Not to mention that within the folds of Jamison’s robes, and on the belt he wore outside of them, there where a great deal of magical accoutrement.

The robes themselves, A rich royal blue, stitched in gold with long lines of magical phrases and words of power. He wore vambraces on either arm, each wrought in cold iron. Silver runes pounded into their dark weight Around his waist was a heavy rider’s belt, filled with small pouches, each home to an ingredient for a spell, hanging from his right hip was his sword, standard English long sword his left hand resting on the end of the blade, and clutched in his right hand was a long wizard’s staff. A smooth shaft, about an inch and a half in diameter polished to a shine, and carved with a great deal designed arcane writings. Over the ensemble was the heavy cloak of the Warden, hood drawn back so that the dragon could see his face. A step forward and he tapped the staff down on the stone beneath him, which sealed a magic circled that he had drawn to seal off the street. He was on with his target.

The sealing of the circle sealed Jamison’s fate, and the moment that the ambient magical energy sealed them in. the dragon lurched forward and opened its jaw, far wider then a human normally could, tearing the human flesh for the body and bellowed a jet of fire forth at the wizard who lifted his staff and his empty hand, a shield angled up to deflect the fire into the sky where it would rain down upon them both. Good thing that Jamison’s cloak was fireproof. The Dragon’s dress however was not, and as it started to burn the flames stopped and the dragon screams as it started to shed its clothing. Such was time that Jamison used to pull his sword free of its scabbard and start towards the dragon, sword down down an upward slash and staff raised, channeling energy through it sending a blast of force into he dragon sending her body reeling while it was still human. Physics where an absolute bitch to the petit woman who was sent flying into the wall of the magic circle, the hit itself calling an arcing bolt of lightning from the sky, the bolt was meant for the dragon. It was a crafty foe who, contorted its burnt body and pushed a wing through the human flesh allowing the organ to push her back form the barrier and let her fall to the ground.

With the dragon on the ground Jamison stepped forward, swinging the blade down onto the body. Unfortunately the battle was not to be so easily won and the dragon swung back and deflected the blade back and away, The blade bit back and bit into Jamison’s forehead. Banking on the disorientation that caused a now clawed and scaled foot was kicked out into the Wizard’s stomach.

Jamison LeFey was sent reeling from that cut at his forehead, and the kick to his stomach sent him stumbling back. And into his own barrier, which when touched, summoned forth another arc of lightning from the sky. In the split second it took before the lightning struck him Jamison flung his sword away, the lightning pulled away to the blade, the heat from the lighting scalding the fresh head wound. Stumbling forth and bringing a hand to feel the fresh blood on his forehead. Looking at the crimson liquid on his fingers just in time for a clawed hand to wind around his wrist, a tough yank lifting him into the air, eye level with reptilian eyes on a mangled, torn half human face.

“You spoke too much wizard; humans have stood greater fights against me… Yet a wizard is unable to scorch my scales…. I believe that you will be suitable as a new walking form…. You’re an attractive enough male…” Jamison held the dragon’s eyes. There was no danger of soul gaze, but while the dragons eyes where on Jamison, his free, currently blood covered hand was able to get into a pouch on his belt. Fingers fumbling with a piece of brimstone. This was covered in his blood and pressed onto the creature’s eye socket. An action, needless to say the dragon was not expecting

“Aeonus! To this form I bind you; to this place I bind you…. By my will and by the might of my blood never again will you stand to harm a creature of this land. Trapped forever in this mangled form of humanity” Little did the dragon know, but by lifting his body up it had made its biggest mistake, To leave its precious eyes unprotected had been Jamison’s motivation all along. Eyes where the gateways to the soul for all creatures. And that Jamison had bound this one meant that it was stuck as it was, a half transformed hybrid, and even had its claws clipped. Pulling his hand back for a moment and jamming the brimstone into the eye socket even more sent the dragon reeling back and freed Jamison’s hand. So that he could finish his binding.

Both hands shoved forward on the creature and Jamison stepped forward once again picking up his staff. “I told you, I never enter a situation where I’m not going to succeed. “By the blood of Morgana LeFey, you are bound to this place… by the blood of Arthur Pendragon are bound from doing harm…” he pushed the end of his staff into the dragon to complete the spell. “You would do well to avoid sight, humans are not kind to the hideously deformed…” Jamison turned his back on the dragon now walking over towards his sword, which he gathered, and returned to his scabbard. “Your life is spared, do nothing to make the white council regret that action.”